I Know
by TangerineSlices
Summary: "Tomorrow will be better," she whispers to herself. He smiles, just a little. "That's right." He kisses her again.


He grips here tightly to him as she sobs into his chest. It always hurts when she's like this. Always. He presses a soft kiss into her hair, pulling her closer into his chest.

Demons are hard to face, he knows this all too well. After all, he lived with one.

Her body shakes with silent cries and it cracks his heart open, exposing the raw pain he tried so hard to never show anyone. But for her, for her he'll let it all out. Hot tears spill past his broken mask, falling hard. It's not much, but he hopes she understands that he's crying for her, understands that he's there for her, that he'll always be.

She never says anything anymore. She never yells, never shouts or screams, never even lets out a whimper. But he knows, he understands. And he's sorry for it.

 _oh, Marinette._

Even though some time has passed now, at least five years he thinks, she still cries on this night. He wants so desperately for her to find peace with it and move on from the darkness she's let herself settle into.

But a small part of him–a jagged, ugly _,_ broken piece he's not too proud of–doesn't want her to.

He sighs into her hair and rests his cheek on the crown of her head. A shiver runs through her and he rubs his hands over her back in an attempt to warm her.

Grief is hard.

He wants to tell her this and let her know he understands. He had to deal with it when his mother passed after all. But she never listens. Not even when he raises his voice and shouts and shouts for hours trying to get her to hear him. It's been years now though and he's since stopped trying.

"Marinette," he whispers, voice cracking.

"I miss you."

He stills. It's the first time she's spoken since the tears started.

His brows furrow and he bites hard at his lip, trying to stop the cry he knows will come out. "I know," he finally manages a hoarse whisper. "I know."

"Why did you have to leave?"

"I'm sorry."

"Adrien…" Her voice is so raw it cuts straight to his heart. "Why? Why couldn't you tell him no for once?"

The tears fall harder as he buries his head into her shoulder. The guilt has been eating away at him for years, gnawing away at his insides until all that's left is a hollow shell. Damn, he wishes he could tell her this. He wishes so hard that he could explain it to her, that he could comfort her and apologize for everything that's happened because he can't.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

" _Dammit_ ," she curses. She beats a hand against the mattress, again and again and again, furiously until she's throwing her whole body into it. "Dammit!" She hisses.

He watches some distance away from her, eyes sad and leaking.

"It's been five years, Marinette," she whispers to herself, hands gripping the blanket so tightly her knuckles turn white. "Get a hold of yourself already. He's _gone_."

His heart breaks at the last part. "I'm right here," he tries to tell her.

In a fit of rage, she throws a pillow at the wall. And then another. And another.

" _He's gone!_ "

He watches now from a corner of the room. He can't be close to her like this. Even the strongest pretense can't keep up with her grief. And if he tried, he knew it couldn't keep up with his either.

With nothing left to throw, she stares blankly at the wall as her tears cut hot trails down her face. He reaches as if to wipe them away, but thinks better of it. Instead, he sits on the edge of her mattress.

"I wish you could hear me," he tells the floor. "I wish I could say that everything'll be okay. I wish that I didn't go back then. I wish you would move on. I wish that you wouldn't. I wish I could tell you this…"

He looks up at her and smiles grimly when their eyes meet. "I wish you could see me."

She wraps her arms around herself, nails biting into her flesh. He wants to pry her hands away so she'd stop hurting herself like this. But he can only pretend so much.

He takes her in his arms again and kisses the top of her head. Kisses her forehead. She shivers and curls her arms tighter.

"Tomorrow will be better."

"Tomorrow will be better," she whispers to herself.

He smiles, just a little. "That's right." He kisses her again. She sighs and leans her head forward on his chest. He rubs soothing circles on her back.

"I'll always be here," he whispers into her ear.

"I know it."

"It'll be better in the morning."

Her breath is shaky. "I know."

She sinks slowly into the mattress, wrapping herself tightly with her blanket like it'll protect her. "Tomorrow will be better," she repeats to herself like a mantra. "I know it." Pulling the blanket over her head, she rolls over to the wall and he can't hold her anymore. "I know."

* * *

lmAO YIKES. i haven't really written anything new in like two years and this decided to come out i guess. it's v melodramatic and over the top ajksdhjlkal

anyways if it didn't make sense, adrien is dead and a ghost and pretends that he can interact with marinette (holding her, having a conversation, etc) but he really can't and marinette doesn't know he's there.


End file.
